


Speculum de Somniis

by queenofworry



Category: A Heist With Markiplier (Web Series), Video Blogging RPF, Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series), markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Abe the Detective - Freeform, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Guns, Lies, Mild Language, Nightmares, Psychosis, The Chef - Freeform, Wilford Warfstache | William J. Barnum | The Colonel Needs a Hug, benjamin the butler - Freeform, tw blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:53:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22439059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofworry/pseuds/queenofworry
Summary: Games were always his forte; well, at least they were with you. Y/N begins to question her reality after yet another supposed psychotic episode. (My first story after a long drought)
Relationships: Damien | The Mayor/Y/N | The District Attorney (Who Killed Markiplier?), Mark Fischbach & Y/N | The District Attorney, Mark Fischbach/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	Speculum de Somniis

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note: Feedback will determine how this story will continue or if it will continue at all. I'm not going to spend all my time writing something people won't read. Please, if you really like it, then comment, like and/or share!

CHAPTER 1: PSYCHOSIS

Your whole body dropped at ease once the electronic wristwatch beeped. 12:30 am had finally struck, which meant the daily task of staking out the museum was over. Thank God! You had been perched on a taller building across from your target for hours now. Tossing aside a small notepad, you allowed your arms to stretch nice and high, hearing the joints pop as the blanket that was draped across your back gently slid off. Yeah, it was a pain in the ass to sit there for three hours a night, eyeing every guard and jotting down details, but it was also the best way to guarantee a smoother heist. This building, in particular, had become an unintentional obsession with you and your partner in crime, Mark. It was his idea to make this place the next score, but as per usual with any job, you did all the hard work. Well, it was probably for the best anyway. For you, a longtime professional jewel thief, all these precautions were elementary.

But Mark, not so much…he was an amateur thief with lots of ambition but had no idea of even the fundamentals on how to steal a pricey necklace without nearly getting his head blown off. It was really a miracle that he wasn’t dead yet; there was an unbelievable amount of times he’d trip over himself, set off alarms, and smash through windows rather than just quietly jimmy the locks. And to think: this had been his profession for over eight years now. Three years even longer than you! Logic had been thrown out of the equation a long time ago; superstition wasn’t necessarily apart of your beliefs, but by this point, it was better not to question anything. You just decided one day that he was still alive because he was born under a lucky star, and because he was cute. So imagine the surprise when he came to you two years ago with the idea of raiding this place. Even for him, this seemed like a really idiotic idea and waste of time. Good money involved or not, stealing dusty knick-knacks just wasn’t your cup of tea. What was he thinking? Trying something this advanced? You’d seen him turn a simple home invasion into a scenario from Mission Impossible. But a short and to the point ‘no’ from you wouldn’t dampen his spirit; he whined about it for weeks and even tried to draw up a plan himself. Once again though: using his head was not a profound skill of his. About twenty-two days later, you caved in to his cries and even volunteered to re-write the plan into something that would, you know, actually work. 

His gratitude was immense, and he promised to pull his weight in any way you asked. As much as you wanted him to do the stakeout, you knew he couldn’t be trusted enough to stay focused or write down useful notes; if anything, he’d probably end up zoning out thirty minutes in and doodle happy faces or something. So you gave him the responsibility of getting the needed supplies and finding a getaway vehicle; really just made him a glorified delivery boy. Mark didn’t care though, he said he was willing to put up with these tasks for as long as it took, and surprisingly followed through. Two years later he graduated to becoming your self-appointed caregiver, which you actually needed, believe it or not. Being the hopeless perfectionist you were, all the intense planning often resulted in you not taking very good care of yourself. Procrastinating things like eating, sleeping, showering etc., Mark appreciated your work ethic, but could easily get exasperated just trying to get you to take a break. Speak of the devil, this would be around the same time he’d come to pick you up and drive back to the base for the night. 

He seemed to be running a bit late, so you saw no harm in getting up and stretching your legs; looking up at the sky was a nice little break for the eyes too. Unfortunately, there were no stars out tonight. Just the moon, throned up in a big black canvas. But at least it didn’t strain your sight like those dumb binoculars. Without any stars to focus on, it allowed your eyes to just be for a moment. The peace didn’t last long though, because what was only supposed to be a five-minute wait turned to fifteen minutes, then twenty, then twenty-five, and Mark had still yet to show his slack-jawed face. It was slightly worrying. As long as you two had spent on this heist, your routine had been perfected ages ago. He wasn’t good at a lot of things, but being punctual was one of them. The longer your watch ticked without seeing him caused your fears and panic to slowly rise. What if something happened to him? He could be bleeding out in the street or maybe he was already–No, no. Now’s no the time to start having a meltdown. Just wait a bit longer and stay calm. If he wasn’t here within the next ten minutes, then you could start looking for him; that’s a good plan, right? Yeah, it is. 

The quietness you loved so much almost an hour ago began to grow deafening from your worry as it wasn’t like Mark to keep you waiting this long. Just what was the freakin’ holdup? You wished he’d just hurry up; it was getting cold, and there was an odd feeling in the air that you seemed to share with someone or something. Oh great, not again! It could have easily just been written off as paranoia or the stress you were under, but for the longest time now, ever since he came into your life, there would be these odd episodes of time in which whenever alone, the atmosphere felt weighted, icy and unsettling. There was still no exact culprit of the cause and whenever these things happened, you’d go to bed that same night, only to be jolted awake by a nightmare. Because that’s exactly what was needed right now! Something else to distract your mind off the job! 

Just at that moment, the sound of pattering footsteps could be heard. Most in that situation would have sighed in relief to find their ride was here, but it didn’t take long to realize the sounds weren’t coming from the stairwell behind you like they normally did. No, something wasn’t right here; they were coming from all around, and they didn’t sound like Mark’s usual boots racing up the metal steps at all. They were slow, light as they clicked on the concrete roof of the building. Someone was up here with you…and they weren’t friendly. From the corner of your eye, a silhouette darted. Every time you tried to get a better look, they vanished. Before things could get any worse, you tore through the black duffle at your feet. Both hands pulling out a crowbar and gripping it for dear life. Just hoped to God they didn’t have a gun. Whoever they were seemed to be taunting you; their whispers getting carried by the wind as the silhouette remained hooded by the shadows. 

“Come now, don’t be that way.” Chills racked through your spine and chest as the whispers growled.

“I’m only saying hello. It’s been a while since we last saw each other. I see you’ve changed dramatically. Amazing what can happen to someone in as little as two years. But I suppose for you, things may seem a bit cross-wired.”

What kind of twisted mind game was this freak trying pull? Talking like he knew you, but hiding his face? Nothing he said was making any kind of sense. Oddly enough, his voice was extremely familiar. Unless it was—

“Mark, is that you? Come on, this isn’t funny!”

You gripped the crowbar harder, hoping to scare him.

“Mark? You’re actually confusing me for that idiot? It seems like you’re the one being funny!”

“Cut the bull, I don’t know you! Whatever game you’re playing, I don’t want any part of. So get the hell out of here before I bash your brains in until they’re jello!”

He only chuckled.

“Poor thing. Still think that you’re in control, don’t you? I must admit, it’s almost adorable.” 

“What do you want?” 

He knew you were already afraid and was enjoying every second of it. Look at you standing there; believing you had even a ghost of a chance to overpower him. He liked it though. A challenge is what made it all the more entertaining. He walked a bit further, only letting the tips of his shoes be in the moonlight.

“What do I want?” he laughed. “You’re the brains in this operation. The planner, the expert. If you’re so smart, why don’t you tell me?”

“I think you’ve been watching me. That you want in or something; maybe a cut of the prize?”

“I have no need for your little trinkets, fool. What I want is simple: I want us to do great things.“

“What do you mean ‘great things’?” 

He responded with the most terrifying laughter you’d ever heard. So terrifying in fact, that you began to see things. At least that’s what you were hoping. Hoping that your eyes were playing tricks on you. The force of his laugh knocked you down on your back, and the sky began to crack like glass. In between the shards where light would have peeked through only buzzed with static like an old tv screen. 

What the hell?! The only thing you could do was weld your hands against your ears and tightly shut your eyes. This wasn’t real, this wasn’t happening. That’s all that echoed in your head as you tried to ride the terror out. But as your body lay helpless and scared, two hands roughly grabbed you by the shoulders and shook hard. Opening your eyes, expecting a monster, you only saw Mark.

“Hey! Hey buddy! Are you alright?”

It was…gone. The sky was back to its normal self, the shadow man had disappeared, and the ringing stopped. 

“Mark? How long have you been here?”

“I just got here like ten seconds ago. More importantly, what are you doing on the ground? Fall asleep or something?”

He pulled you into a sitting upright position and took a seat by your side. 

“I-I m-must have. But I don’t remember laying down or falling asleep.”

“Eh, no one ever does.” he shrugged. “Must have just dozed while waiting on me.”

Oh yeah, that reminded you:

“Yeah, what took so long anyway?! I thought something happened to you!” You socked his shoulder pretty hard

“Ow! Sorry! I had trouble getting the Barrel to start up, then when I went to go pick up some takeout for us, the drive-thru line was ridiculously long. I didn’t think being an hour late would’ve worried you so badly.”

“Well, don’t do it again, okay? I’ve had the worst nightmare and just wanna get back to base.”

He looked worried.

“Another one? Buddy, that’s like your fourth one this month. And believe me, I could tell it was a doozy judging by the way you were practically convulsing when I got here. You think I scared you by being late, you freaking scared me! I thought you were having a seizure or something.”

“Well, I’m sorry for hitting you and sorry for scaring you.”

“And I’m sorry for being late. Now that I know how big a deal it is, I’ll remember to text you next time.” 

One handshake later, you and Mark were headed down to the van, hoping to just put that awful dream behind. Sure, it was scary, but it’s not like it could actually hurt you, right? At least that’s what you kept telling yourself on the ride back. Mark could see it too. He kept glancing at you from his spot in the driver’s seat and wondered just what could you have possibly seen in that nightmare? Must have really been horrifying, because you didn’t utter a syllable the whole time. You just obliviously nibbled on the fast food in the paper bag on your lap while staring out the window. 

“Are you sure you’re alright? Might be working too hard.” he finally said.

You shook your head. “I don’t know what it is, Mark. For years now, I’ve been having these episodes. Normally I’m awake when it happens, but come to think of it, I don’t think I was dreaming this time either. I never laid down once while waiting. In fact, I stood up and walked around; before I knew it, there was this…figure.”

“A figure?” 

“Yeah, I didn’t even get a good look at the shape or anything since he was in the shadows the whole time. But when he spoke, he sounded like you, but with a whispery growl added. Scared the crap outta me.”

Mark seemed to be getting progressively uncomfortable hearing about it. He shifted around and picked at the peeling leather on the steering wheel. The dream must be giving him the creeps too.

You continued on though. “And the things he said—they were odd. Like, he knew me and you too! Made it sound like I was some kind of blind idiot or something.”

Mark quietly, but firmly stopped you right there.

“That’s enough, (Y/N). It’s obviously some kind of mental breakdown, which is why when we get back to base, you’re gonna take a nice hot shower and then go straight to bed. I want you to take a few days off to recharge, okay?”

“But Mark–”

“No arguments. I’m getting worried about you, so just promise you’ll take it easy for a bit.”

Your dedication to the heist didn’t wanna take a few days off. It wanted to keep going, and keep your eyes on the prize that you and Mark so badly wanted. But Mark was obviously concerned for your wellbeing, so to put his mind at ease, you reluctantly agreed. After spending so much time peeping through a pair of binoculars and slouching for hours, a break didn’t seem too bad. Hopefully the museum wouldn’t add a new security system or something. The mysterious box in that vault already seemed reachable enough and a sudden change like that could screw up the whole plan. But that was enough worrying for now. Everything would be better in the morning, especially after a shower and a good night’s sleep, just like Mark recommended. 

The shared base he spoke of was really a two-story lakeside house located at least thirty miles outside the city. While most thieves would have bunkered down in an abandoned shack or rent a cheap motel room, yours and Mark’s identities had yet to be discovered by authorities; therefore giving you the freedom to spend the shared fortune on a nice place to stay. (Under fake aliases of course) There is no way you were gonna live like roaches when you had bundles of cash on hand. The one downside to it was the amount of gossip obsessed neighbors that were always wanting to have dinner with you and your ‘husband’ to dinner so they could welcome you to the neighborhood. Oh please, that’s just nosey code for getting an excuse to see inside the house and to pry even further.

Mark politely declined their offer, saying that you were both shy and liked to keep to yourselves. of course it just lead to even more gossip, so to humor them, you went to dinner a couple of times. It sucked but it was necessary to keep them off your backs. 

The tense atmosphere became much more relaxed once the Barrel pulled into the driveway. A few lamps were warmly glowing from behind the closed curtains on the first and second floors, giving off the feeling of being welcomed home after another long night shift. 

“I’ll get the gear and food; you just go on in and get ready for bed.” Mark offered, patting your shoulder. 

Had it been any other night, the load just would have been split, but all that shadow demon crap or whatever it was, left you in no state to argue. 

“Sounds good, thanks. I’ll leave the keys in the door so you can just lock up behind me.”

A nod from him was enough of a signal to force yourself out of the passenger seat. The previously relieving soreness from your feet instantly rippled through your calves once the pair of black boots you wore hit the pavement. Yes, it was too much not to groan at this point; just a few yards away, practically taunting, was the front door. From there, it would only take just a beeline for the staircase, and into the third door on the left. Oh, so close, yet so far. It almost felt as if you were being mocked.

You were almost tempted to just sleep in the Barrel; not like it would have been the first time. For a van, it was actually quite cozy; a bed/storage bin, wooden interior along with Mark’s personal touch of an old tv and mini-fridge. The TV’s quality was kind of iffy, since it was one of those older ones with a built-in VCR. Many a night after a long stakeout, Mark would find you curled up in the back bed area, out like a light. He often wanted to wake you and put you in your own bed, but he was assured that as long as you looked comfortable, he could let you sleep.

But no, as tired as you were, your exhausted frame needed a real bed tonight; you don’t suffer a psychotic episode, and then try to sleep it off in a van. It just wouldn’t work. 

“Hey, I don’t need to carry you in, do I?” Mark called from the back of the Barrel.

His sudden shout made your heart jump. 

“Uh, no, I’m going. Sorry, just tired.”

As hard as it was to do, your feet found enough energy to walk yourself off the driveway and up the stairs to your bedroom. It felt so good to be back, all the familiar sights and scents were hugging your nerves, giving them a feeling of calmness; the calmest you’d been all night. All that was left to do was take a hot shower and turn in to start a nice little break from the heist planning. Heading into the adjacent bathroom made the settling adrenaline spike a bit though, as your gaze averted the large mirror over the sink. For some unknown reason, your pulse just raced when it came to mirrors; they absolutely terrified you. There was just something about looking back at your face and seeing framed in a glass box that made you uneasy. 

It wasn’t too hard to manage. The house didn’t have many, and whichever ones you had to pass, you just didn’t look. With that decided once and for all, you made your way into the adjacent bathroom, locking the door behind and promptly undressed to hop in for a quick shower. Mark could hear the water beginning to run as he finished bringing the equipment and food inside. It was a relief for him to know his buddy was taking care of themselves; after all, the heist wouldn’t be able to go smoothly unless both parties were in a good mental state. Holding it off for a few days would be completely worth it, and he was gonna help you get through this.

What are friends for, right?

———————————————————————————————

A heavy fog of shower steam poured from the bathroom as you exited; your plush white robe embracing your body in a warm hug. That was absolutely heaven! With going through such a large hallucination, nobody would have believed you if you said it already almost felt like a well past memory. All that was left to do for the night was simply unwind until you fell asleep. 

Knock knock knock

“Come in.” you called, flopping down on the bed while pulling the covers over your lap.

A pair of brown eyes peeked from behind the door, as if waiting for further permission.

“Hey, Mark.” 

He let himself in more, and sat on the edge of the bed. He was no longer wearing those dark bandit clothes, but a white t-shirt and pair of pajama pants. 

“Hey, how’re you feeling? Better I hope.”

“Yeah, actually; much better. I thought I was gonna go to bed terrified but that shower really helped.”

“Oh, that’s good to hear. Listen, I may not understand what you’re going through, but whatever it is, you can talk to me about it. Whenever you want! I mean it.”

“Thanks, I’m okay for now, but honestly, I–well,”

“What?”

You sheepishly took his hand gently squeezing it.

“I was wondering if you could stay in here for a while? Just until I fall asleep maybe? It won’t take long, but I could use a bit of quiet company.”

He didn’t need any convincing. Without saying a single word, he simply smiled and got up from the bed to switch the light off. That was Mark; kind of an idiot, but not a mean bone in his body. He even laid at your side, pulling you into a cuddle. Not what you’d asked for, but certainly not complaining. 

His arms felt so comforting as they wrapped around your waist, his head snuggling into the crook of your neck. Most friends of the opposite gender couldn’t cuddle without people suspecting there was something more in between, but that just wasn’t the case here; Mark was accustomed to soothing your anxiety. He’d done it many different ways too. Sometimes he watched your favorite films with you, other times is was picking up your favorite food. Tonight, it was just holding you, making sure you calmed and drifted off peacefully. 

“Goodnight, Mark.” 

“Night buddy. Sweet dreams.” 

——————————————————————————————–

What time was it? How many hours have gone by? There was no clear answer for either question, but something definitely wasn’t right. The previous soft and warm bedding under your body had been traded for a hard, cold surface; almost like concrete, maybe. You didn’t even know for sure if your eyes were opened or closed, but upon attempting to wake up more, the only sight that greeted you was darkness. Just a pure, pitch-black atmosphere. But an unnatural kind of darkness, like darkness covered in even more darkness. Even holding your hand in front of your face was a bad indicator as you saw nothing. The sensation of flexing your fingers could be felt clearly, but there didn’t seem to be any sight of them.

Then it was cold again. 

You didn’t even notice you were still lying down at this point, but slowly sat up, trying to find a light source. Nothing. Not even a single sound. At least, not for a few seconds. Almost too quickly, as if it knew, the darkness and its quiet was instantly interrupted by the sound of static. The kind of static you hear when trying to change the channels with a bad signal.

No…not again.

A small box TV manifested before your feet, its screen buzzing with the same snowy fuzz that static came with. Just what the hell was going on? Why was this all happening? Being alone in this void, you got no clear answer, just the light of the screen in all the darkness. Your eyes squeezed shut, as the rising anxiety grew stronger.

“It’s not real. It’s not real. it’s not real…” you pleaded under your breath.

They opened again and this time a blank VHS tape was sitting in your lap. Had that always been there? The only logical or maybe illogical thing to do (depending who you ask) was to do the obvious and pop the tape in. Your index finger hit the play button and braced for any kind of terror. It was hard to tell, at first, but once the tape began to settle in the VCR, it displayed the images of an old house…an old, big house. There was no sound to it, no music, just the footage. Whoever filmed it must have been good with cameras because it went from an aerial shot of the exterior of the grounds, to swooping down on the house and into the doors. They opened all on their own and the poit of view glided through countless hallways and corridors, going in and out of every room inside. 

Just when you thought this was a lost cause, the camera headed back towards the entrance, giving the illusion it was going back outside, but instantly blindsided you by whipping around and focusing intently on the small mirror that hung above a decorative inn table. Your whole body froze. Please, anything but a mirror! You knew that with it being recorded from some other time ago there was no possible way that it’d show your reflection, but still your heart was in your throat. The camera grew closer and closer, making any remaining breath you had begun to claw its way out in the form of hyperventilation.

The tape ended before getting too close to your fear, only intensifying the situation. Just like before on the roof, the air seemed to fill with glass-like cracks boasting static in where light should flood through. 

“Do you remember?” a disembodied voice asked. Couldn’t answer even if you wanted to, the short escaping breath in your chest failed.

“I said, we were going to do great things.” it continued to tease.

Who was he? What did he want? Why you? 

Blue and red aura tendrils were framing every ‘shard’. 

Your own voice nearly uttered at least one of those questions, but before even getting a syllable out, it put you back in your place.

“Go back to sleep.”

A cloud of breath refilled your lungs as you jolted awake, audibly gasping like an asthmatic. Gasping…back in your room? It was just a dream…all a dream, thank God. All the surroundings just as calm and familiar as they were at bedtime.

Well, almost all of them. Nearly falling back asleep again, you noticed the empty space beside you.

“Mark? Where’d you go?”

END CHAPTER 1


End file.
